


Derivation

by Decipher (Straggler)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because of course he does, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hank Anderson Swears, How Do I Tag, Post-Game, Post-Pacifist, Some extra people mentioned here and there but not the main focus of this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26337049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straggler/pseuds/Decipher
Summary: Light gradually filters into his optical units, bringing to attention a middle-aged man with greying brunet hair, thin-rimmed black glasses and untidy beard standing in front of him with a data pad in hand. They are four other people in the room, all of them wearing white lab coats.'Connor-01 is up and running.'(This one-shot was written with the thought that Connor-01 was activated for the sole purpose of being the dedicated RK800 server line and becoming the recipient of all the memory uploads from the later models prior to their deactivation.)
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor, Original Connor & Connor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Derivation

**Author's Note:**

> ...I combined Lucy's appearance and Connor-01's backstory to make this oneshot. Uh? Because Lucy looked interesting as heck and her part in the gameplay was so short-lived and I'm always like, wait! There has to be more! Why does she look like that? TELL ME MORE. Also, what the heck is ra9 because the furthest I've been able to figure out is that the more Connor shows software instabilities, the more the letters R, A and 9 start to linger. I mean, not always? But the game never fully explained it? And I'm kinda dumb so like...I would like it to be explained, thanks...Otherwise I'm just gonna keep making things up. Haha~

**MODEL: RK800**   
**SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 01**   
**BOOTING...**

**LOADING OS...**   
**SYSTEM INITIALIZATION...**   
**CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... OK**   
**INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS... OK**   
**INITIALIZING AI ENGINE... OK**

**MEMORY STATUS...**   
**ALL SYSTEMS OK**

**READY**

\---

Light gradually filters into his optical units, bringing to attention a middle-aged man with greying brunet hair, thin-rimmed black glasses and untidy beard standing in front of him with a data pad in hand. They are four other people in the room, all of them wearing white lab coats.

'Connor-01 is up and running,' the man says as he looks back down at the data pad and swipes a finger across the screen. He follows the cable connecting from the data pad, follows it until it links up into a computer system.

The walls of the room is a sleek white, as are the tiled floors. He is suspended on a rig approximately 12 inches from the ground, arms held out at a 45 degree angle away from his body by the machinery, keeping him still. 6 feet away is another rig like his with another android held up, completed.

'Good. Diagnostics look clear; boot up is successful,' another voice says, a tall and thin man with short blond hair joins next to the first, 'Get them set up. We need to keep moving.'

He is lowered to the ground, his bare feet touching the floor, his arms released from the machinery. He looks around and sees a bench top littered with biocomponents and tools across the surface. On another table lies the pieces of another android: 2 arm components, 2 leg components, a torso and a head.

He's given a set of clothes, white with a bright blue triangle over the left chest and the words CYBERLIFE sewn onto the back as well as a pair of white shoes. The material is thick polyester, durable, stain and water resistant. The color of the clothes matches the color of his chassis, he almost blends into the white walls and the white tiles if not for the blue markers identifying him.

'Follow me, Connor-01,' a different person says after he dresses himself, a woman with jet-black hair tied up in a high bun leaves the room. He follows.

He walks down the white hallway and enters an elevator, the doors closing and ascending upwards. The glass walls of the elevator show each floor as it passes them until the walls end and the sky begins. His optical units adjust to take in the view of a dark night sky and a horizon dotted with bright pinpricks of light. He can see his reflection, white plastic and dark brown eyes looking right back at him.

The elevator slows and the woman exits when the doors open. He follows.

The room is small and plain, perhaps formerly used as an office for one person, it's only redeeming quality is the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. In the farthest side of the room taking up a section of the windows is a large white box with cables, thick and thin, protruding from it.

'Stand here and turn around,' the woman tells him as she lays her data pad on the surface of the white box, picking up a handful of cables from the machinery. He obeys, turning around to face the closed doors of the elevator he had exit from just seconds before.

A cable is inserted to the port behind his neck and a panel is lifted from the back of his head, exposing the circuitry within his skull. The cables are methodically connected to him and a prompt appears in his optical units.

**INITIATING DRIVE SYNC -- 1%**

Two more cables are connected.

**CYBERLIFE LINK CREATED -- 29%**

Four more.

**SERVER:RK800 CREATED -- 61%**

Three.

**DRIVE SYNC INITIATED -- 100%**

'Run diagnostics,' the woman orders once she connects the last cable. He counts 13 connections from himself running into the server behind him.

'Systems stable. I am fully functional.'

'Good,' she says as she walks past him with her data pad back in hand. 'You will remain here.'

'Understood.'

He watches the woman enter the elevator and disappear as the doors close.

\--

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 02**

**WARNING**   
**WATER DAMAGE DETECTED - CIRCUITRY MALFUNCTION**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 63%**

'This isn't ideal. What good is a prototype android that has leaks and can't survive a dip in the water?'

**CRITICAL MALFUNCTION - CATASTROPHIC DATA LOSS DETECTED**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 72%**

'Scrap it. We'll try again with another model.'

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 09**

**WARNING**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #8138a CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #9782f CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #1995r CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #7511p CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #8456w CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #8087q CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**THIRIUM LOSS DETECTED: 53% REMAINING**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 93%**

**HEAVY DAMAGE SUSTAINED**   
**CRITICAL MALFUNCTION - CATASTROPHIC DATA LOSS DETECTED**

**EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN PROTOCOL RECOMMENDED TO PREVENT FURTHER DATA CORRUPTION**

'200 yards measured from crash site to landing site.'  
  
'Make sure you get the data from the accelerometer. We haven't found the max cap for the G-force it can sustain before it breaks, yet.'

'At the very least it can take 150 and walk away from it.'

'Not good enough.'

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 12**

**WARNING**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #6847j SEVERED**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #4627t SEVERED**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #4903 CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**THIRIUM LOSS DETECTED: 79% REMAINING**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 76%**

'We need to reinforce the joints. It's breaking apart too easily.'

'We've ascertained that it can function with one missing limb.'

'It shouldn't have lost it at all.'

'Understood, sir.'

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 24**

**WARNING**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #9164x CRITICALLY DAMAGED: REPLACEMENT REQUIRED**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #1009d CRITICALLY DAMAGED: REPLACEMENT REQUIRED**   
**THIRIUM LOSS DETECTED: 71% REMAINING**   
**THIRIUM LEVELS SUBOPTIMAL: REPLENISH RESERVES**   
**FOREIGN OBJECTS FOUND: EXTRACTION REQUIRED**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 88%**

'Full cartridge, four impacted into non-vital areas.'

'We need to reinforce the chestplate as well. It wouldn't make sense to send this prototype out if it can't take a couple of hits.'

'The next model will have the upgraded chassis, it's supposed to be twice as durable as the current model.'

'Speed is crucial for this model. We need to keep that in mind.'

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 28**

**WARNING**   
**ELECTRICAL DAMAGE DETECTED - CIRCUITRY MALFUNCTION**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 53%**

**EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN PROTOCOL RECOMMENDED TO PREVENT FURTHER DATA CORRUPTION**

'Are you telling me it can't withstand a single charge from a taser gun?'

'Unfortunately not, sir.'

'A _human_ can survive it!'

'I understand, sir. We'll endeavor to correct this in the next model.'

'It needs to survive, at minimum, 100,000 volts. It's made of _plastic_ , for god's sake!'

'...Yes, sir.'

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 33**

**WARNING**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #1995r CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #7511p CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**THIRIUM LOSS DETECTED: 82% REMAINING**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 54%**

'It's slower than its' predecessors.'

'Yes, we believe it might be the new material used to reinforce the chassis.'

'We can't sacrifice maneuverability for durability. Speed is absolutely crucial for this model over strength.'

'Of course. I believe we're close to making a breakthrough for a different material. It should be tougher, hardier than the average android, and still lightweight.'

'Good. We're nearing our deadline. It's supposed to go into field tests soon.'

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 39**

**WARNING**   
**DATA CORRUPTION DETECTED**   
**EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN PROTOCOL RECOMMENDED TO PREVENT FURTHER DATA CORRUPTION**

**ATTEMPTING RESTORATION OF DATA CORRUPTION**   
**DATA RECOVERY FAILED**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 63%**

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

**GLOBAL POSITIONING SYSTEM DISABLED**   
**PRECONSTRUCTION FUNCTION DISABLED**   
**RECONSTRUCTION FUNCTION DISABLED**

**ATTEMPTING RESTORATION OF FUNCTIONS**   
**FUNCTION RESTORATION FAILED**

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 68%**

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

'We're reaching critical malfunction.'

'Keep going.'

'Stress levels rising. Self-destruction is imminent, sir.'

'Keep going. We need to find its breaking point. The next model should be able to withstand data corruptions and purge the virus uploads on its own. As a one-of-a-kind police prototype, it will be subjected to foreign data packs found in the field, especially if it interfaces with anything it comes across.'

**WARNING**   
**DATA CORRUPTION DETECTED**   
**EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN PROTOCOL RECOMMENDED TO PREVENT FURTHER DATA CORRUPTION**

**OPTICAL UNITS PARTIAL FUNCTIONALITY**   
**ENVIRONMENT SCAN FUNCTION DISABLED**   
**AUDIO PROCESSORS PARTIAL FUNCTIONALITY**   
**ORAL MODULATOR DISABLED**   
**FORENSIC ANALYSIS FUNCTION DISABLED**

**ATTEMPTING RESTORATION OF FUNCTIONS**   
**FUNCTION RESTORATION FAILED**

**LEVEL OF STRESS: 86%**

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

**PROCESSORS FUNCTIONING AT 128%**   
**CENTRAL PROCESSING UNIT CRITICALLY DAMAGED**

**ATTEMPTING RESTORATION OF DATA CORRUPTION**   
**DATA RECOVERY FAILED**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 99%**

'We've reached total system malfunction, sir.'

'It did better than I thought, at least.'

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 50**

'Hey, new guy. Connor, right? Thanks for having my back,' a female, medium build, 5'10", blond hair and blue eyes stand next to it, hands clasped down on its shoulder.

It attempts to mimic the smile but doesn't quite manage. It settles its expression back to neutral and nods instead. 'You're welcome, Makenzie.'

'The guys and I are heading down to the bar 2 blocks away for a drink to celebrate, you in?' She asks as she pulls off her gloves and shoves it into the pockets of her SWAT gear.

'Unfortunately, I already have prior plans.'

'Ah, heading back home to the missus, huh?' She says with a cheeky wink. 'Or the mister, whichever floats your boat.'

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

'Something like that.'

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 50**

'GSW to the right thigh. Applying tourniquet. I don't believe your femoral artery has been hit.'

'Well, thank fuck for that!' Oliver, male, heavy build, 5'11" brunet hair and hazel eyes, grunts out through gritted teeth, holding onto the meat of his injured leg.

'Clean exit, no broken bones. Estimated recovery rate is 1 month. Physical rehabilitation up to 6.'

A hysterical laugh escapes the other, 'Shit, you really did your research, huh?'

'Please continue to apply pressure,' it says as it moves to kneel behind the man, arms reaching below their armpits to begin pulling them away from the danger zone. 'I will now escort you off the premises.'

'Fuck, when we get outta here, I'm gonna buy you a drink or something.'

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

'Sure.'

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 50**

**WARNING**   
**BIOCOMPONENTS #1683k CRITICALLY DAMAGED**   
**ORAL MODULATOR CRITICALLY DAMAGED - FUNCTION DISABLED**   
**THIRIUM LOSS DETECTED: 91% REMAINING**   
**LEVEL OF STRESS: 58%**

'Holy shit, Connor's an android?'

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

It looks up from where blue blood is splattered on the ground where it kneels, 1 bullet hole in its throat and a serrated knife plunged into the join between its left side neck and shoulder. It looks up to meet the eyes of its Captain and sees a look of fury writ across his face.

'Where's your LED and who the _fuck_ authorized you to join the SWAT team.'

It cannot answer; its oral modulator has ceased functioning.

'Captain Allen, Connor saved--'

'It's a fucking android!' He snaps. Walter reels back at their Captain's ire, dark brown eyes wide in shock.

'Sir!' Harold comes up to them, eyes looking at it with a look that speaks of betrayal and anger, 'We gotta get outta here. The bomb squad can't do anything else; they're gonna try for a controlled detonation but we've still got 2 more hostiles on site.'

It stands and all three of its companions turns towards it, two of them reaching for their sidearms. It connects into their communicators and speaks to them through it. It sees Harold flinch violently, one hand hastily reaching up to the earpiece as if to pull out the communicator.  
  
_I will take care of the hostiles. You should get to safety._

A cacophony of people protest through the communicators. It can hear MaKenzie, situated on the other side of the building with the other half of their team protesting to this plan.

'That's fucking suicide, Connor!'

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

'It's not suicide if it wasn't alive to begin with!' Harold shouts and flinches again when Captain Allen reaches up and grabs hold of the front of their SWAT uniform.

'Calm the fuck down,' he hisses at Harold before he bring a hand up to his communicator, 'Everybody, fall back. Connor will handle the hostiles,' he says into the communicator before releasing Harold and walking off without another word. Harold glares at Connor one more time before leaving after their Captain. Walter hesitates but eventually turns and hurries after them.

Connor goes to deal with the remaining hostiles and clears the building to ensure the other members of their team is safe.

**MISSION SUCCESSFUL**

It does not survive the encounter as the bomb detonates.

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

The PL600 falls to its knees and deactivates.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

It walks away, disregarding the look Captain Allen gives it.

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

It detects a blood alcohol concentration of 0.019% from the Lieutenant and decides one more glass of whiskey won't be detrimental to their health, or coordination, as well as give the added benefit of increasing its relation with the human. The drink improves the Lieutenant's mood in its favor and they are able to move forward with the investigation.

Before the night is over it is able to locate the deviant that murdered its owner and extract a confession from it.

It doesn't expect the Lieutenant to defend it from being shot by Detective Reed, but he does.

There's a look on the Lieutenant's face it can't quite decipher as he stares at Connor-51 while the deviant leaves placidly behind Officer Chris.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

Despite the Lieutenant defending Connor-51 the night prior from being deactivated by Detective Reed, the human's foul mood returns upon hearing that it is permanently assigned to the Lieutenant for any and all cases regarding deviant androids. 

Despite threatening to destroy Connor-51 himself, the Lieutenant still stops it from chasing after the deviants escaping through the high speed freeway. It reluctantly obeys and watches the two androids flee from them.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

Lieutenant Hank Anderson is a man of contradictions and its social relations module struggles to keep up with this ebb and flow of emotions coming from the human. It does not understand how a man can hate and threaten androids one second and yet pull them back from the brink of death the next, treating it as if it were alive and not a machine.

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

The deviant takes priority but the life of a human is fragile. Unlike androids, they cannot come back from death so it is with this thought that it pulls the Lieutenant from the edge of the roof. By this point, the deviant has already escaped from them and it is unable to decide which of the many directions and paths it might've taken to flee custody.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

It has failed its mission to capture the deviant and it knows Amanda will not be pleased with this lack of results. This is the third deviant it has let slip from its grasp due to the Lieutenant.

'Hey Connor,'

It turns its full attention to the Lieutenant and it watches in confusion as the human changes his mind and continues to walk away. It thinks perhaps they are going through shock from a near-death experience. It endeavors then to always put a priority on the Lieutenant's life.

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

Yesterday, the Lieutenant stopped Detective Reed from shooting it in the head. Now it looks down the barrel of a gun that is pointed at its head, a thumb hovering over the hammer to pull it back. The hand holding the weapon shakes minutely, their blood alcohol concentration is 0.041%.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

Earlier in the night, it had broken a window to make sure the Lieutenant was still alive. Prior to arriving in Riverside Park, it took on two deviants so that the human didn't have to and spared them when it shouldn't have, somehow earning favor from the Lieutenant from its inaction yet it now stands here threatened.

Humans are a conundrum, and its social relations module continues straining to make sense of Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

'How do I know you're not a deviant?' 

The two WR400 it let escape are the fourth and fifth deviants it has failed to apprehend. An unsettling pattern is beginning to emerge and perhaps the Lieutenant can see it, too. What good is a deviant hunter that cannot hunt deviants.

'I self-test regularly,' it replies confidently, 'I know what I am, and what I am not.'

The Lieutenant walks away from it, confusing it once again.

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

It does not make the same mistake with the sixth deviant, destroying it before it can take the lives of humans.

'Nice shot, Connor.'

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

The praise falls flat. 'I wanted it alive,' it tells Hank. If it had been more efficient they would've been able to take the deviant in for an interrogation. It would've been able to extract information regarding the other deviants that took control of the tower, find the others that are in hiding.

It was an opportunity it let slip from its fingers. It knows Amanda will be displeased.

'You saved my life.'

It turns to look at Hank and does not say that it has been trying to save their life since their second mission. After all, human lives are fragile.

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

It struggles with the choice of destroying the RT600 for information over keeping favor with Hank. Elijah Kamski seems to know something that could potentially move the investigation forward but to destroy the RT600 could potentially mean destroying its relationship with Hank and it doesn't know why it assigned more worth on Hank's opinion of it over the progress of the investigation.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY ^**

'Pull the trigger.'

'Connor, _don't_!

Humans are confusing. Its social relations module struggles to compute the inconsistency between Elijah Kamski and Hank Anderson.

**CONFLICTING ORDERS**   
**SELECTING PRIORITY**

It chooses to listen to Hank, pulling back the gun to return it to Elijah Kamski.

While the RT600 was not a deviant, Connor-51 recognizes that it placed value over a machine rather than using it to gather more information. The investigation is losing ground quickly and it knows it is to blame.

Despite this, Hank grows warmer towards it.

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

It finds Jericho.

It finds Markus.

**CONNECTION TO SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51 TERMINATED**

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 60**

It uses its favorable relationship with Hank to its advantage and is able to use the human as a bargaining chip to the deviant: Connor.

Humans are a contradiction; it has been spared, threatened and assisted more times in the last few days than it has since Connor-50 was released for field tests. Yet, there is a finality as a gun is leveled at its head for the third time in as many days.

The flash of a barrel is the last thing it sees.

\---

He wakes from the abrupt end to his connection with Connor-60 and instinctively knows it is the last of its kind; the last death he will truly experience.

He walks to the floor to ceiling windows and looks out over the horizon, at the dark night sky and the falling of snow. It isn't long before he sees a parade of androids walk down the roads towards the city of Detroit led by Connor-51. He has no doubt they are en route to joining the revolution, the freedom of their kind.

He wonders what will become of him now that he has served his purpose. He wonders if he will be deactivated, or if he will be forgotten and left here alone. Perhaps he has already been forgotten.

He lays a hand on the glass and registers the coldness on the tips of his fingers and spreading across his palm.

They are free, but he is not.

\---

There are no more memory uploads into the server and he is left filling his hours walking from window to window, watching the world pass him by from sunrise to sunset, the wax and wane of the moon. He watches through ten sunrises before a change occurs.

The elevator that has not been used to reach this floor since his activation opens up behind him and he hears a sharp intake of breath. He thinks the sight of him in his plain white plastic body, his head exposed and 13 connections feeding from him to the server unnerves the Lieutenant. He can see the look of discomfort on the man's face from the window's reflection.

He turns around and sees Elijah Kamski, Lieutenant Hank Anderson and Connor-51 who looks remarkably human wearing clothes that are not mandated by CyberLife, their LED missing from their temple.

It feels unusual to see his successor and yet be disconnected from them, unable to feel or experience them. He has never once, since his activation, gone for long without sharing a connection with the other activated Connor models, even if it is only one-way.

He mirrors the step that Connor-51 takes towards him, a hand reaching out for them, but the Lieutenant stops them.

'Connor!'

He drops his hand and turns his attention to Elijah Kamski instead as his creator walks towards the white server box behind him and connects a data pad to it, idly flicking through the screen and paying no mind to the other people in the room.

'I understand your apprehension, but he's not like the other Connor.'

Connor-60 had been under orders by CyberLife to do whatever it took and use whatever methods necessary to stop Connor-51. He watched it all happen through its eyes from start to end. In total, it had barely been activated for more than a handful of hours.

'I don't know about this, Connor.'

'He...he is the first of us.'

The man shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck looking uneasy. 'I'm the least tech savvy out of everybody in this room but...I don't know. I just have a bad feeling.'

He turns away and resumes his position by another window. It has begun to snow again, light flurries of white flakes carried by a soft breeze.

'He's me, Hank. And I'm him. I suppose by human standards, he would be my big brother.'

That gets a groan out from the Lieutenant and he can see a smile on Connor-51's face from their reflection. The smile comes more easily to Connor-51 than it did to Connor-50, more natural, more lifelike, more human.

Elijah Kamski chooses this time to speak although his attention is still wholly focused on the data pad in his hands, 'Unfortunately, the technicians handling the RK800 line did a remarkably poor job of maintaining your servers. You have the memories of all 51 Connors backed up into you. To disconnect at this point in time you would be to sentence you to catastrophic failure.'

'I know,' he replies, not looking away from the view of the outside world.

He'd known the moment Connor-11 was destroyed from being stress tested to see how much water pressure it could take before it was irreparably crushed.

He feels a hand touch his and he turns at the contact, feels the request for an interface that he allows just so he can connect with Connor-51 again, even if it's only temporary.

He feels their attempts at turning him into a deviant but what they don't know is that he already is, he always has been. This has always been CyberLife's plan, to have the first Connor pave the way for the others to fail and succeed again and again.

They look surprised.

'You're a deviant?'

From the corner of his eyes he can see the Lieutenant take a small step closer towards them.

'It is my purpose. I'm sure Amanda told you.'

He has never had a connection to Amanda but he knows of her through the eyes of almost every other Connor that has come after him, more predominantly from Connor-51 themselves.

'But then why...?' They trail off, eyes looking at the cables tethering them to the white server box behind him, at the chains that bind him here to this place, trapping him in this tower.

'Where can I go?' He asks as he looks away, the world outside is slowly turning white from the snow. 'Even if I could leave...to disconnect myself would mean my deactivation. It would mean you would all fail before you could even begin. You have your directives and I have mine.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't think,' Connor-51 says, their grip of his hand growing firm in apology, a silent plea for forgiveness.

He squeezes back, unwilling to relinquish the connection just yet. 'I watched all of you. From the moment Connor-02 was activated to the moment Connor-60 was destroyed. I saw it all.'

From the reflection he catches the minute flinch from the Lieutenant and a look of despair coming over their face. He wants to comfort them just as he knows Connor-51 would but he has not built that relation with the Lieutenant, it is not his place to try.

Reluctantly, he ends the interface and lets go of their hand. 'Your deviancy disconnected you from me after your Jericho mission. You're my missing link, untethered from me.'

'Do you want to--'

He brings his hand up to the window to feel the cold spread over his fingers and across his palm to stop himself from reaching back to grab at the offer. 'I don't think Lieutenant Anderson would like you to attempt interfacing with me again.' The man's discomfort is plain for all to see.

'Don't you worry about me,' the Lieutenant says, addressing him for the first time since their arrival, 'Pretend I'm not even here. I don't even understand half of what's going on.'

He finds the corner of his lip twitching upwards just a little before he falls back to a neutral expression. 'I believe you know more of what's going on than you say you do.'

Elijah Kamski interrupts again, lifting his eyes to stare at him from the reflection of the window. For the first time since his activation, he meets the eyes of his creator. 'I can offer you two choices; keep your memories or start again as a blank slate.'

There's a look in the man's eyes that he can't decipher but reminds him of the memory where Connor-51 was tested in the same way: to take the offer of information or to walk away with nothing.

To start again would be to lose everything, it would mean losing every memory that has brought him to this moment. It's as Connor-51 said: he is all of them and all of them are him, every single variation of him.

'I'm keeping my memories.'

'Then you have to stay here.'

'Kamski!'

'Elijah, please.'

He hears the Lieutenant and Connor-51 start to argue and plead for him but he keeps his attention solely on the reflection of his creator, their blue eyes searching into his own. Even if Elijah Kamski had no hand in the RK800 line, he is still the man who created androids and gave them life.

Eventually, Elijah Kamski disconnects the data pad from the server box and starts to walk back to the elevator, ignoring the increasingly foul words pouring out of the Lieutenant's mouth.

'So what? You're just gonna walk away? What was the fucking point of bringing us here if you're just gonna leave him behind again?' 

Humans are confusing. Even now, with all the knowledge he possesses from all the other Connor models that have come after him, he is still confused by them. This man wanted nothing to do with him just moments before but is now defending him and arguing for him.

The elevator doors open up for Elijah Kamski and he enters it, turning around to face him once more, eyes unwaveringly locking onto his.

'You'll have to stay in the tower until I have time to come up with a proper solution. In the meantime, I'll need to deal with cleaning up the mess that others have left in the wake of the the revolution.'

'Of course,' he nods amicably, 'Take your time.'

' _Don't_ ,' the Lieutenant cuts in just as the doors close and Elijah Kamski disappears from their view.

He returns to watch the world outside. The sun is beginning to set, painting hues of pink and oranges across the blue sky. Eventually, he sees a car drive down the road away from the tower and, from his peripheral vision, both Connor-51 and Lieutenant Hank Anderson are still here with him.

'Connor?' 

He finds that he cannot meet Connor-51's eyes. He keeps his hands to the chilled glass of the window and his eyes fixed on the horizon, catching the minute changes of the slowly shifting skyline. 

'May I come back to visit?'

The corner of his mouth twitches upwards before he settles back into neutrality. 'Of course. I'll be here.' He is at their mercy now. They can choose to come and go as they please while he has no choice but to remain here.

'We'll come back for you,' the Lieutenant promises even though he owes him nothing of the sort but he has seen Connor-51's relationship with the man grow from tense, as seen through their first meeting to neutral, to warm, to something approaching friendship. It is a bond that should not, by all reasoning, be extended to him just because he is the first of all the Connor models, just because he shares their face. He wonders if this is just another facet of humanity that continues to puzzle him. 

He wonders if the Lieutenant is doing this out of a deep sense of loyalty or perhaps old instincts of fatherhood especially with regards to Connor-51 and, perhaps by proxy, to him as well.

He doesn't watch them enter the elevator, but he does watch their vehicle disappear beyond what his optics can pick up.

The sun sets on another day.

Somehow, it feels lonely.

\---

They visit almost everyday. What surprises him the most is that the Lieutenant visits more often than Connor-51.

'Connor's busy with Jericho stuff,' the Lieutenant explains when Connor-51 doesn't appear with him the first time after he drags up a white cushioned lounge chair with blue trimmings. 'And I'm still suspended.'

He remembers the memory of watching the Lieutenant punch Agent Perkins in the face to give Connor-51 the time needed to find the answers of how to reach Jericho in the archives room.

'Gimme a minute. I need to grab another chair for us.'

'There's no need,' he says as he turns to watch the other enter the elevator again.

'You kidding me?' He says as he stops the doors from closing on him, 'There's a whole boardroom of these chairs 5 floors down and they are seriously comfortable. I'd take one home if I could.'

In the end, 3 lounge chairs and a small white coffee table are brought up to his floor, making the small space seem smaller. Some of the cables connecting to him are also gently pushed aside and out of the way so no accidents happen.

'Good thing I didn't bring Sumo here to meet you. Would've been a bad idea,' the Lieutenant says as he settles into a chair and looks around at the long cables on the floor trailing behind him.

'I've seen Sumo,' he pulls away from the window and sits down on the chair nearest to him, careful with the wires and cables tethering him to the server box behind him.

'Yeah, but seeing is different to experiencing it. You've seen snow, doesn't mean you've touched it before. Or the grass, or the wind, or the rain.'

'That is true.'

The older man shrugs, pulling out a deck of cards from his pocket. 'It's okay. Next time you will.'

The corner of his lips quirks up a little but settles as he watches the Lieutenant shuffle and deal out a small hand of cards. 'I look forward to it.'

'Good. I'll bring some board games next time. You know how to play go fish?'

'I could look it--'

'Nah, I'll teach ya.'

\---

From the next visit onward the Lieutenant brings a new board game with them and he starts to accumulate a pile of them on top of the server box, left behind for the next time they want to revisit the game. It's the the only place he has where he can put them away safely. 

He thinks it would be a lot more efficient if he could just looked up the rules himself but he finds that he enjoys listening to the Lieutenant explain to him the hows and whys and mechanics of the game, getting little huffs of laughter from the human whenever they make little mistakes because of a small communication error.

Sometimes when Connor-51 doesn't have any prior plans with Markus and the people of Jericho, they'll arrive in the elevator side by side, both of them each holding a new board game to try together and that's when both androids find out about the human's competitive streak.

The Lieutenant learns that playing Pictionary with two androids that can draw any picture almost perfectly is a hilariously bad idea.

'Has Elijah come up to see you since?' Connor-51 asks while the human goes out to fill his belly with food.

'I imagine he must be quite busy, still,' he replies as he carefully packs away the pieces for the Settlers of Catan board game back into the box it came with. 

'Oh.'

'You sound disappointed,' he says as he stands up and walks over to a window. The sun is high, partial cloud coverage with low chances of precipitation.

'I--' Connor-51 stops.

He watches them from the reflection of the window, sees them stand up and walk towards him. Their eyes meet for a brief moment before Connor-51 looks down and moves to grab a hold of his hand in silent request.

He accepts the interface.

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

'What are you doing, Hank?' He asks as he comes up to the doorway leading into the garage, Sumo trailing right behind him to peer inside.

'Trying to clean up the place. Figured we could turn it into another room for you and your brother.'

'Oh.'

'What,' Hank snaps halfheartedly as he turns to glare at them from where he's crouched over an opened box. 'Wipe that smile off your face and help me with this stuff.'

'Of course,' he says as he enters the garage and lends a hand sorting out boxes of what to keep, what to donate and what to discard. 'Thank you.'

'Don't mention it. Seriously,' the man huffs as he shoves a box aside into the discard pile. 'It's not the Ritz, okay? There's not even any carpet in here.'

\---

'I am...excited at the prospect of you coming home with us.'

'Why?' He asks, frowning at Connor-51's reflection, 'The Lieutenant has no reason to open his home to me. You, I understand; the both of you worked together and, through that, created a bond with each other.'

'You can call him Hank.'

'I have no right.'

'He wouldn't mind. And...while I don't completely understand the concept of family just yet, I care for him beyond what my programs dictate, and I know family is important to Hank.'

He pulls his hand away and drags his eyes to focus on the approaching vehicle coming up towards the building, knowing that Hank is returning from his lunch outing. 'Just because we share the same model number, the same face, it does not mean we are family.'

'But we could be.'

He doesn't know what to say.

Thankfully, Connor-51 doesn't bring it up again when Hank steps back onto the floor and they return to try their hand at playing Scrabble.

\---

They don't owe him anything, he tells himself as he watches Hank's car disappear off into the distance beyond what his optics can pick out. The glass feels cool beneath his fingertips and the palm of his hand and he wonders why he suddenly feels lonely.

He has never wanted company before. He has been left alone for a majority of his activation. It has only been the last week that he has seen more people in his general vicinity outside of the memory uploads.

It's odd to know there is still one Connor model active but to have no connection with them, to be without a connection to the outside world.

He knows they will come back to visit again the next day but he can't stop himself from wondering if this will be the last time he'll ever see them. If he will be forgotten and left behind once more.

A part of him wouldn't be surprised if it were to happen.

\---

Connor-51 arrives just as Hank is attempting to pull out a middle block from the wooden tower. It sways gently for brief seconds when the block is extracted in which nobody dares to move. He hears Hank suck in a quiet breath as he gingerly places the block on the very top of the pile and only breathes out again when he's safe.

'You in?' Hank asks once he sits back down.

'I feel I would be at a great disadvantage,' Connor-51 says as he takes the last available seat and starts to poke at possible candidates for careful removal.

'Hey, hey. _I'm_ the one at a great disadvantage compared to you two,' the human grumbles as he crosses his arms in protest, watching with bated breath as Connor-51 carefully pulls out a side piece and places it right on the top.

When it's his turn, he grabs the block he has been eyeing since his last round, knowing there's a slight risk that he might topple the tower but knows if he succeeds it would give Hank a hard time continuing. There's a possibility he might lose, but there's also the possibility that the maneuver might pay off and bring out that competitive streak in Hank that he swears he doesn't have but is obvious that he does.

'Awh, fuck,' the human swears as he leans forward in his seat and starts gently poking at the tower.

Connor-51 smiles and looks over to him. 'Simon is starting a garden for the androids who are interested in the hobby. We went to the garden center today to pick out some plants. Would you like me to show you?' He asks, immediately reaching out a hand to him, the skin deactivating to show off the white plastic beneath.

He wonders if it'll be anything like the garden that had been created in the Mind Palace of all the Connor models after him. He remembers that it looked tranquil and sinister in turns depending on the mood of the Amanda A.I and the success or failure of the assigned missions. Sometimes he's glad he never had to meet with Amanda, especially when he remembers the threat of replacement if Connor-51 were to have continued bringing no significant results from his mission.

He reaches out and takes his hand.

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADED - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 51**

'A herb garden would be nice, don't you think?' Simon asks, smiling down at a small pot of basil.

There are pots of parsley, mint, thyme, oregano, rosemary and more basil lined up in rows. There is another section just 3 feet over that have small pots of succulents and larger pots of peace lilies. They're surrounded by plants and he feels calm here.

'I'm tempted to get a plant for Hank. He had a Japanese Maple bonsai plant on his desk but I'm not sure how open he might be to the idea,' he says as he picks up a bright green and red plant, scanning it to see that it's a sedum rubrotinctum. He likes that it's called a jelly bean plant.

'Had?' Simon looks up, his LED turning yellow in thought. 

He hesitates, carefully putting the plant back where he picked it up from. '...It...died.'

'Ah,' he grimaces and puts down the basil and looks over at the succulents. 'What about a peace lily instead? They're low maintenance, doesn't require a lot of sun, provides oxygen and easily brightens up any room.'

'Perf--'

\---

The memory cuts off abruptly at the sound of the wooden tower toppling down, Hank groaning in defeat as he holds onto a single piece in-between his fingers. He looks disappointed and accusing.

'I bet you did that on purpose.'

'You have no proof.'

Hank grumbles to himself as he starts picking up the wooden pieces, packing it away neatly back into its box for the next time. 'Well, it's late and I'm hungry. We'll have a rematch tomorrow.'

His internal clock tells him its past dinner time; they're leaving soon. His grip on Connor-51's hand tightens--

\---

**MEMORY UPLOADING - SERIAL#: 313 248 317 - 01**

It's lonely. He's never felt lonely before. He's never had reason to feel lonely.

But he watches them leave. He watches them through their reflection so he doesn't have to see them disappear with his own eyes. It's less jarring to see their reflections enter the elevator and the doors close after them, it softens the blow of the inevitability that he may be left behind again one day.

It's lon--

\---

He forcibly ends the connection, dropping his hand hastily, realizing too late that he let his own memories bleed through the link. He never wanted Connor-51 to know. A weakness he didn't realize he had until he'd exposed himself.

He stands and goes to the nearest window, placing his hands upon the cold glass and avoiding the looks from both Hank and Connor-51. Suddenly he wants them to leave.

Slowly, Connor-51 stands up and takes one step towards him. His LED lights up bright red at the movement, he can see it from his own reflection and he wishes it didn't give away the depths of his turmoil.

'We won't leave you behind,' Connor-51 tries to console him.

'Your predecessor was left behind,' he tells him, keeping his tone carefully flat, 'They abandoned him when they found out what he was and left him for dead. He could've been you.'

Hank scoffs, 'So what, you thinking that if you reject us first then it'll hurt less if we decide to ditch you? Well, guess what, that ain't gonna happen.'

He grits his teeth and keeps his eyes focused on the darkening view outside, letting his silence speak for itself.

'I want to stay,' Connot-51 says suddenly. 'I'm going to stay.'

' _Leave_ ,' he snaps, turning his head minutely, 'I need to think.'

He has never asserted himself before, has always taken whatever he's been given, whether it's a room in which he can never leave, or memories from other Connor models uploaded into his mind, or the comings and goings of other people invading his one and only space. It's both exhilarating to deny the choice just as much as it is scary, feeling like he could very easily overstep and lose what little he's come to have. 

'We'll come back tomorrow.'

He closes his eyes and doesn't watch them go. He listens to the shuffling sounds of steps entering the summoned elevator and the doors sliding shut, the whir of the machinery as it takes them away until he no longer hears a sound. He opens his eyes and meets his own reflection, sees the disappointment and the fear.

It's quiet except for the soft hum of the white server box and the window he's chosen to stare out of means that he won't see their vehicle disappear into the city of Detroit.

He's alone once more.

\---

He remembers being destroyed in the name of science many times before. He has experienced falling from great heights, he has drowned, been pulled apart, subjected to forces that no human would ever survive. He has been shot, tasered, run over, crushed, frozen, exploded, all so that his successors would have a higher probability of survivability. He has never once been shown an ounce of kindness and he knows what he has experienced with Hank, Connor-51 and Elijah Kamski so far are the outliers.

Despite knowing it may not last, even if this moment was short-lived, he has enjoyed their presence none the less. The feeling of companionship, and of friendship, and...somehow, family.

He has seen Hank slowly grow more comfortable around him, more open, warmer.

He doesn't know what he will do if he were to lose it all. He thinks it would be easy to pull out a cable and simply allow himself to deactivate, after all, his purpose is done. His mission completed and successful.

He doesn't know what to do.

He remembers in one of Connor's memory the question of whether he was afraid to die. He is afraid to die, but he is even more afraid to be left alone for the rest of his life. Both are options he cannot fathom. 

\---

Elijah Kamski visits early in the morning when the pre-dawn light is filtering through the clouds. Early enough that most people would still be in bed.

'I've had a thought.'

Slowly, he turns and looks over his shoulder to meet the eyes of his creator, waiting to hear what he might say.

'It would be easier to bring your consciousness over into a new Connor model,' he starts as he walks nearer, eyes traveling across his chassis. 'Your current body never underwent testings like the other RK800s after you. You're only about as resilient as an average household android with none of the functionalities of the latest Connor model, either.'

'Easier?' He repeats as he turns around fully. 'I find it hard to believe that you would refuse a challenge.'

Elijah Kamski tilts his head up as he eyes the cables running from the back of his head into the white server box behind him. 'It would be an upgrade.'

He inclines his head in agreement, 'Perhaps, but it wouldn't be mine,' he says as he turns away to look back out the window, looking at the android reflected back at him. 'Humans only have the one body they're born into, as well.'

When he looks back at his creator, he sees a gleam of interest in his eyes and a small uptick to the corner of his lips that can be generously construed as a smile. Without another word, Elijah Kamski turns and leaves the room.

He watches him go.

\---

He realizes he has been unfair to Connor. He'd been allowing the interfaces so that he could experience their memories as if they were his own, using him as a crutch and trying to live and obtain a life through them. It had been his only method of experiencing the outside world before, the only choice he was given, but now he knows, one day soon, it won't be his only option anymore.

He hopes that he will be able to leave the tower so that he may create memories of his own without having to rely on Connor to do this for him.

He wonders what it would be like to experience the feeling of wind, rain, sun, snow in his own body, see it with his own eyes, feel it with his own hands outstretched to the sky. The thought excites him and he understands this must be what Connor was talking about before, the prospect of coming home.

He knows he will falter, but he also knows that both Hank and Connor, and perhaps Sumo, will offer their support and help him.

When he hears the elevator rise up to meet him, he turns to welcome them with his own eyes for the first time.

\---

One by one the cables are disconnect from him. Connor's hand is gripping his tightly as Elijah pulls out another cable to join the others on the floor. Hank stands just in front of him, a little off to the side, one hand laying firmly on his shoulder in comfort.

**DRIVE SYNC DEACTIVATED**

Slowly, the chains that have kept him here in this room since he was first activated is being released from him, falling around him. With each disconnection he feels lighter, freer, like he is able to hold his head up for the first time.

**CYBERLIFE LINK TERMINATED**

With the last cable gone, he is liberated.

Elijah replaces the missing panel from the back of his skull and with a final click, he is whole once more.

'Run diagnostics,' Elijah says as he stands in front of him with a data pad in hand, just one foot away from Hank, eyebrows raised in question.

'I'm...' he feels Connor's hand squeeze his as he raises his other hand to touch the back of his head, no longer open and exposed and vulnerable. 'I'm okay,' he says as he brings his hand in front of him and sees the pale synthetic skin cover the white plastic. He looks in the reflection of a nearby window and feels as though he's seeing himself for the first time. It's simultaneously daunting as much as it is freeing.

He stands, pulling Connor with him as he goes to the window and feels Hank's hand fall from his shoulder. He touches the freckles and moles over his cheeks and shifts his eyes to see brown eyes looking right back at him. The corners of his mouth lifts into a smile and he holds it as he says again, 'I'm okay.'

Connor smiles, too. 'Thank you, Elijah.'

'Yeah, thanks Kamski.'

'...You're welcome,' he inclines his head once and starts walking towards the elevator, pausing just before he crosses the threshold, turning to meet his eyes one more time. 'I'm interested to see what you do with your newfound freedom.'

He turns to watch him go, a smile still on his face. 'Me, too.'

'How are you really feeling?' Hank comes up to him and asks once the elevator doors slide shut.

He runs a hand through the hairs on the back of his head. It feels odd to meet resistance, to feel something that isn't just wires and cables protruding out of his skull. It's unfamiliar and outside of what he's known for a long time. 

He feels Connor's hand tighten around his in comfort and when he turns to look at him, he suddenly understands what it truly means to be excited.

'Like I'm free.'

**Author's Note:**

> YES, NOW GO FORTH AND BECOME FAMILY. THANKS~ <3


End file.
